Grief is something I will happily blow a kiss goodbye to when at last I meet my Lord. For one, the whole thing is draining. For another, nothing about it changes anything. And for another, I guess I don’t know how to do it properly.
The first week after the miscarriage I was a bit raw. The littlest things would set me crying, and I felt like I had a pool of hot tears always waiting to crescend down my face. I couldn’t read my Bible without crying over it all: the pain of partaking in suffering, the goodness of God, my thankfulness for Him. And if I felt like I was *making it* during the day, my 4yo would innocently say, “Baby Rose is dead” followed by my 6yo stating matter-of-fact, “Yup! And there she is in the rosebush!”
And then week two hit. And I gotta say, I felt almost normal. The bleeding stopped. I ran errands, I homeschooled the children, I made meals. And this is going to probably sound awful, but I was…..happy. I remember thinking, “Only God can be a joy-giver in the midst of pain” and I relished in His cheer. It was as if the Lord allowed me to look into His face…and how could I not be joyful?
But at the same time I wasn’t oblivious to grief. In fact, I was more aware of it everywhere I went. For example, when the market cashier and I exchanged the typical “how are you-fine” my mind busily spun out, “but I just lost my baby and I am really sad about that and I just want to hold her again….” I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in the gentlemen’s mind. Every face I see now, I wonder about grief behind the eyes. And I’m sorry for it, sorry for it all.
So I have my moments, but overall I think I am all right. Is that so wrong? What’s wrong with me? I think, I miss my baby, but who am I to question the wisdom of the Lord? How can I doubt His goodness to me in all things, His perfecting love, His bigness bigger than all my grief? He is a man acquainted with sorrow, deeply intimate with the pain I know and burden bare-er on my behalf. And yet I do wonder if I am just in denial, because honestly…why wouldn’t I be crying 24/7? I don’t know. But it makes me feel cold hearted at times to be laughing or singing, like I haven’t hit the allotted time yet to allow for it.
In any case, thank you all for your comments, your emails, your sweet notes in my post office box (they are still right at my kitchen sink…those words are such a balm). So many of you have suffered so much; I’ve crushed you all prayerfully and mentally in hugs! We live through such grief in this life! But through it all I would like to just fearfully, tenderly, lovingly and softly invite you to sit with me at the Savior’s feet. Any maybe, perhaps…maybe you, too will find a song on your lips, sweetened by the bitterness of sorrow.
May His joy be yours,
Dear dear Keri Mae,When I read your post on Hair Care, I thought, "Praise God, she's alive again." You are not wrong to feel joy. I believe God allows grief to simply carve out a wider vessel for joy within us. After each of my miscarriages I felt an amazing sense of joy and appreciation for what God had given me. The grief was still there, but I do believe it is possible to hold grief tenderly in one hand while embracing joy and love in the other. It's one of the mysteries of this beautiful, difficult life. Keeping you in prayer.
"How to do it right"? Here are two conflicting views.http://www.recover-from-grief.com/7-stages-of-grief.htmlhttp://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=five-fallacies-of-griefMy own several experiences with grief are all over the map. I don't think there is "a" way; it just "is". It sounds like you're experiencing it and dealing with it as it fits you as an individual, and doing well.Our hearts are with you, as always.Dad